


camping [stryker/kabal]

by mkships (judgmentfist)



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Camping, M/M, Married Life, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 11:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20723441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judgmentfist/pseuds/mkships
Summary: a slice-of-life everyday adventure for stryker and kabal, who deserve to enjoy life together! stryker volunteers with the local boy scouts, kabal comes along to help his husband outnote: this was written prior to mk11 and does not involve any mk11-related lore or plotlines. i cannot possibly imagine them fitting together with, or being relevant to, my own canon. this is, however, canon to the mirror match verse: http://bit.ly/mirrormatch1 )- - -"I bet you’ve got some crazy story about what happened, though. Like the zombie thing.”“Oh yeah. I got burned when a four-armed fire-breathing tiger came out of a portal from another world and attacked me.”The scout laughs out loud. “That's a really good one.”“I'm just messing with you. It was an accident. That's all.” Kabal doesn't have the heart to try to convince them of the truth. He manages a genuinely nice smile, and hands over Rex’s leash to the kid. “You mind watching him for a little while? I gotta check in with Kurt-- Mr. Stryker.”“Yeah!” Their eyes light up, calling the dog closer, and Kabal takes advantage of the distraction to disappear in a flash.





	camping [stryker/kabal]

Kabal’s starting to get tired. Unlike Stryker, who appears to have the boundless energy to lead an entire Boy Scout troop on a nature hike in the middle of summer, Kabal is not a creature of the woods. To make it worse, some genius left the bug repellent in the car. Namely, him. 

He's been grudgingly tasked with carrying the camping supplies, which he solved by dashing to the end of the trail in the blink of an eye, dropping everything, and returning without any of the children noticing. Stryker did, though, and gave him a look. Kabal returned the look. Then Stryker just smiled, as he always does. 

That was two hours ago, though, and he's still trudging obediently along the forest path, trying to corral the kids at the back of the group. The other resident in the Kabal-Stryker household, namely Rex the retired police dog, is doing a significantly better job at keeping the children in line. They both chose not to have kids, but Stryker is good with them. Kabal isn't. 

He tries not to deploy his powers around the children, but occasionally it's necessary. He's saved a few lives that way, or at least a few hospital bills. Still, the nature hikes are hardly Kabal's time to shine. He's there because his husband works with the Boy Scouts, and it seems like a proper spouse duty to come along and help with these kinds of things. Besides, he'd rather not sit around the house by himself this afternoon instead. He gets lonely.

A piping voice interrupts his reverie, making him lift his head in surprise. “Hey, mister?”

One of the scouts, decked out in full uniform with an excessive amount of badges, is walking backwards to look at Kabal, focusing intently. Somehow, they've managed not to trip on the path. They repeat themself more insistently this time. “Mister?”

“Yeah? What's up, kid?”

“What's your name?”

Kabal sighs. “I told you all when we started. Months ago.”

“I forgot. Or maybe I wasn't paying attention.”

At least the kid's honest. Kabal laughs. For once, he can relate. “You forgot? How'd you end up with so many badges?”

The scout shrugs. “I dunno. I do good work, I guess. Hey, you didn't tell me your name yet.”

“Just call me Kabal.”

“Mr. Kabal?”

“Whichever. It's fine either way.”

“Oh, okay.” The kid contemplates this for a moment, putting the pieces together. They're unafraid to get right to the point. “You live with Mr. Stryker?”

Kabal winces a little, just on instinct. “Yeah. What's it to you?”

“Nothin’. Just, you know…” The kid gestures vaguely, not really clarifying anything at all. “Jimmy thought you n’ Mr. Stryker were family, but I said that's stupid. You don't look anything like each other.”

“We're not related, no.” Kabal runs a hand through his ponytail nervously, tightening Rex’s leash a little. He's not really even sure why he's so concerned. He's got nothing to fear from a little kid. Habit, he guesses. “So, uh…” He trails off, hoping the kid will change the subject. 

They don't. “Are you and Mr. Stryker married?”

“Yeah.” Kabal blurts it out before he can stop himself. The kid seems unfazed, so he continues. “We both used to be cops. When we were younger. We got engaged, but… life kinda got in the way for a couple decades. But things worked out for us, eventually. Got a nice little place, settled down… and now Kurt goes and drags me through the woods for fun. Just kidding. I know it's for a good cause.”

“I don't like the hikes too much either, but camping’s kinda fun.” The kid gives up on walking backwards, and falls into step beside him. “Hi. I'm Alex. I forgot to say that. Hey, why'd you guys have to wait so long? Getting married, I mean?” 

Kabal ponders telling the truth. “We both died and became undead warriors for 25 years. But we're fine now.”

“Ha ha. No, really, why?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, it wasn't legal yet to get married in America for a while. So we had to wait.” 

_ “That _ makes more sense.” Satisfied, the scout rummages around in their backpack, pulling out a granola bar. They offer it to Kabal promptly. “Want one? My mom packed too many.”

Kabal hesitates. “You sure you're not trying to poison me?”

“No way. They didn't teach us how to hide bodies yet.”

He accepts the offering, trying not to grin. “Don't think there's a badge for that.”

“Darn.” The kid crams half a granola bar into their mouth at once, spraying crumbs as they keep talking. “If you're married, why don't you two have the same last name?”

“How would we pick which one to use?”

“Huh. Dunno.” The kid stops to think this over. “That wouldn't work. Then you'd both be Mr. Stryker.”

“Why do think we'd use _ his _ name?”

“Cause he's in charge here, I kinda just assumed. Maybe you could trade last names?”

“I don't see that working.” 

“Hmm. Guess not.” The kid has an endless volley of questions, hurling them at Kabal enthusiastically. “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

He grits his teeth, stopping short. “_ What _ do you mean?”

“You're out of breath. Do you have asthma? My little brother does.”

“Oh.” Kabal's genuinely taken aback. “That's all?”

“Yeah. Do you need some water?”

“No, I got some. And it can't be fixed. My lungs are damaged. I… got burned.” Kabal drags himself along the path with increasing difficulty, exhaustion starting to weigh him down. He's not cut out for this. He gestures to his scarred arms, sighing. “I thought you were gonna ask why I look like this." 

“I just kinda assumed it was, like, your thing. It's sorta cool. What's up with your eye though?”

“...I’m blind in that eye.”

“Oh.” The kid’s face falls, but lights up again just as suddenly. “You should wear an eye patch! And get one of those cool hats. For Halloween or something.”

“For a minute there I thought you were gonna suggest I should dress like a pirate every day.”

“Thought about it. I bet you’ve got some crazy story about what happened, though. Like the zombie thing.” 

“Oh yeah. I got burned when a four-armed fire-breathing tiger came out of a portal from another world and attacked me.”

The scout laughs out loud. “That's a really good one.”

“I'm just messing with you. It was an accident. That's all.” Kabal doesn't have the heart to try to convince them of the truth. He manages a genuinely nice smile, and hands over Rex’s leash to the kid. “You mind watching him for a little while? I gotta check in with Kurt-- Mr. Stryker.”

“Yeah!” Their eyes light up, calling the dog closer, and Kabal takes advantage of the distraction to disappear in a flash.

\- - - 

“You do a good job with them.” Kabal muses quietly at the end of the evening, sitting cross-legged in the tent and cuddling up to Stryker as his husband writes some notes in a journal. He's tired, sore, and winded from the hike, but he can't quite fall asleep yet. He unties his ponytail, letting his damp hair fall loose around his shoulders, and leans against Stryker's shoulder. “There was one kid that wouldn't stop asking me questions. Alex, I think.” 

Stryker answers absent-mindedly. “Yeah, she's great. Joined the Boy Scouts instead of the Girl Scouts. For the outdoors skills, I guess.”

Kabal is surprised. “She? Go figure. But good for her. Nice kid.” He drapes an arm around his husband's shoulders. “The scouts never believe me when I tell them the truth about what happened to me. Or us. Not that I blame them. It's pretty goddamn ridiculous, in hindsight.”

“Yeah, it all sounds like a tall tale. But it doesn't matter now. I try to stay focused on the future.” Stryker closes the journal and puts it aside, settling into his sleeping bag soon afterwards. He's tired, too, but pleasantly weary. It's nice to feel like he's done some sort of good deed. “Hey, babe? C'mon. We gotta wake up early tomorrow.”

“You really think we can both fit in here?” Kabal grumbles quietly, trying to join him, and ends up crammed into the other side of the sleeping bag, gently turned around by Stryker to cuddle him more comfortably with an arm wrapped around his waist. “Okay, I guess this works, but if we have to get up during the night, we're in trouble.”

“I can get you your own bag, if you want--”

“No way.” Kabal interrupts him, quickly getting used to the comfort of the close quarters. “This is actually kinda nice… hon-- are you braiding my hair?” 

“Yup.” Stryker finishes the task quickly, kissing Kabal's neck when he's done. “Your hair’s gonna be in my face all night otherwise. And…” He leans over to gently and lovingly kiss his jaw and cheek, just for good measure. “I like doing it for you. Now go to sleep, sweetheart.” 

Kabal relaxes, snuggling up to his husband with a soft, satisfied smile that Stryker feels even through the darkness. “Night, dear. Love you.”

Stryker replies sleepily. “Love you too…” And he's out like a light. Kabal joins him in sleep soon after, comfortable and at peace.  



End file.
